


Above Night's Doorstep

by Wil



Category: Kushiel's Legacy series
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wil/pseuds/Wil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Teaser:</b>It was a hot, hot summer day. I'd ran away again from House Cereus, because I wanted to see Hyacinthe one least time before Anafiel Delaunay's men took me away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Above Night's Doorstep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minviendha (Lise)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/gifts).



It was a hot, hot summer day. I'd ran away again from House Cereus, because I wanted to see Hyacinthe one least time before Anafiel Delaunay's men took me away.

I ran down the cobbled streets, running, almost stumbling. I could feel the wind in my hair, my ankles twisting, but all that mattered was to say good bye.

I had to look for him. Who knew when we would see each other again? I might be fostered with a new master, but I would nonetheless be leaving Night's Doorstep, nonetheless leaving the possibility of running down from Mont Nuit to twine my hand in his, if only a moment.

I found him in a back alley. He was scuffing his feet, and for a split moment, I could have sworn he was expecting me. My voice quavered a little as I called out his name.

"Hyacinthe?"

He didn't look up, his voice was very level.

"I am the Prince of Travelers, yes," he said, quietly. "And you are Delaunay's Anguissette."

There was something in his eyes when he looked up. I knew it for what it was – the dromonde's knowledge, and pain, too. I took a step in his direction, guided by instinct and not thought. Our hands joined, and he took mine firmly, as if he refused to ever let me go.

"Come," he said, very softly. "Please."

I went, and I could not help but notice that our skins were making a beautiful contrast, milky white against creamy gold, and suddenly I wondered how beautiful it would be, during a showing, but the flash of desire was quickly killed off.

He was leading me to a quiet place, atop the roof of the inn. There, he slipped a ribbon around my wrist, without uttering a word.

"You will lose it in an hour," he said, after a moment. "But perhaps the memory will remain with you for longer."

My hand opened in his, squeezed, before I put my head on his shoulder.

"I will never forget you," I whispered, softly. He looked down, and I could feel his spicy breath on my face – it smelled of something foreign and other, sweet and acrid all at once. I looked up. "Is that so?" He seemed doubtful. "It is," I told him, softly, truthfully. He lowered his head, a little.

It was easy, then, to tilt my head a touch, to allow his lips to brush mine, and I did so eyes closed, as if I were returning a gift for another. His hand cupped my face, so tender, so gentle, and he deepened the kiss just a little, his tongue flicking at my lips.

They parted, and over us, the sky was blue as I tasted my first love's kiss.

Above us, Blessed Elua, I hoped, was smiling.


End file.
